Harry Who
by Doctor Shadow
Summary: After the final battle, Harry and Tonks go on one heck of a vacation. Honks fic. ON HIATUS
1. The Second Coming

A/N: This my first fanfic. It's sort of the opposite of usual Mary Sue fics. Instead of having a Mary Sue added, Harry and Tonks are the Mary Sues. This will involve a lot of crossovers. I'll will always warn before hand, so as not to spoil anything. This is the first three chapters, which form a kind of prolouge. This prolouge may contain spoilers for HBP and Doctor Who: Parting of the Ways (The show that gave me the idea, the dialogue and the title).

Now, I've read fanfics here for a long time. So, I know how irritating it can to never know when (or if) an author will update. So I am going to try and update every thursday.

This fanfic is T, though it's probably more of a K+. Better safe than sorry.

Oh, and one more warning this a Honks(Harry/Tonks) fic.

A/N(12/4/05): After realizing how bad the original chapter really was, I've made an attempt to improve. Some amendments to the above a/n: this will defintely contain HBP spoilers and Doctor Who: Parting of the Ways spoilers. Also, I take back what I said about this being more of a K+ fic. By the time is over it will have definitely earned it's T rating. I would like to say thank to my first three reviewers, and apoloize for the original chapter one.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The dialouge is from Doctor Who: The Parting of the ways. It's just been gievn to the HP characters. If you have not seen that episode but are planning to, DO NOT READ. There is a major spoiler. There is also possible Half-Blod Prince spoilers. You have been warned.

Harry Who

Chapter One: The Second Coming

No one noticed that it was raining on Grimmauld Place. Well, almost no one, at any rate. It was so late, that the only person awake was a seventeen year old boy in number twelve.

Collapsed in a chair, the boy was watching over an unconscious woman. The woman, who was twenty-three, had pink, spiked hair and a heart-shaped face, was his girlfriend, Auror Nymphadora Tonks.

The boy in the chair had messy, black hair and green eyes. He looked so ordinary that you could pass him on the street without noticing, except for a scar on his forehead that looked like a lighting bolt.

But Harry Potter, that was the boy's name you see, was not ordinary. He was more of what you might call anti-ordinary. First of all he was a wizard, which is strange enough for muggles(non-magic people) like you and me. But even in the wizarding world, Harry was anti-ordinary. He was the only known person in history to have survived Avada Kedavra, the Killiung Curse.

His story began when he was only one year old. Lord Voldemort, the most evil wizard in a century, had heard part of a prophecy and believed that killing Harry would fulfill it. Voldemort went to Godric's Hallow, Harry's Home town, on Halloween night and killed Lily and James Potter. With his parents dead, Harry didn't seem to stand a chance. But when the Dark Lord cast the spell, it rebounded on him. Bereft of his body, Voldemort fled to the forests of Albania, and Harry was sent to live with the Dursleys, his relatives by blood only.

All was quiet for nearly ten years. It was then, on Harry's eleventh birthday, that Harry finally found out that he was a wizard and was to go to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. There he had met Voldemort a second time, in an attempt to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Had Harry not defeated him, Voldemort would have used the stone to get his body back.

In Harry's second year at Hogwarts, Voldemort tried again. This time he used his memory, preserved in a diary for fifty years. He narrowly failed, and would not have if a basilisk fang hadn't been conveniently sticking out Harry's arm, which he used to stab the diary.

Voldemort remained hidden until Harry's fourth year. But when the two finally met, Voldemort got his body back. All did not go well for the Dark Lord, though. Harry escaped and told his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the only one that Voldemort had ever fear, that the Dark Lord had returned. Voldemort lost the element of surprise.

They fought again in Harry's fifth year, though the battle was not as significant as what was revealed afterwards. Dumbledore told Harry the full contents of the prophecy the sent Voldemort to Godric's Hallow. It stated that either Harry or Voldemort would have to kill the other. Fortunately, Voldemort was never to learn the prophecy in its entirety.

Harry did not meet Voldemort in his sixth year. Not directly, anyways. Through a series of memories Harry discovered that Voldemort had created six horcruxes, pieces of his soul contained in various objects. The horcruxes made him almost immortal, for while even one remained, Voldemort could not be killed. With two horcruxes already destroyed(including the diary from Harry's second year), Harry and Dumbledore left Hogwarts to find another one. Returning from what would prove to be a futile attempt, they found the school under attack. It was here that Dumbledore lost his life, leaving Harry alone to find the final horcrxes.

In what would have been Harry's seventh year, he hunted for the horcruxes with the of his friends, especially Tonks. During their quest, he fell in love with her and she with him. After destroying the horcruxes, Harry and Tonks fought side by side at the battle of Hogwarts.

The battle of Hogwarts. Even Harry didn't know most of what happened there. All he that knew for certain was that Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters had been killed, and that many, if not most, of his friends had perished. The battle over, a wounded Harry had taken an unconscious Tonks to his home, number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

After all this, one wonders how Harry stayed sane. It is no shock at all that he spent his whole wishing to be someone else. All though, right now he was wishing that Tonks would wake up. He'd hate for her to miss his death.

Harry was dying. He could feel it. He didn't care, though. He'd done what he'd set out to do. He had faced the enemy, and the enemy was dead. And he had saved Tonks. In the end that was all that really mattered.

To weak to move, he just sat in his chair. He closed his eyes. He could feel death coming. He was slipping in and out of consciousness.

A bang, a puff of smoke and a large red and gold bird appeared in number twelve. Harry, opening his eyes, recognized the bird as Fawkes, the phoenix that once belonged to Dumbledore. The phoenix, which had its former owner's uncanny ability to show up exactly when it was need, was crying on Harry.

Phoenix tears have extraordinary healing power. His strength renewed, Harry stood up.

"Thanks, Fawkes," he said patting the bird on its head, "but it's too late."

Harry went over to the desk on the other side of the room and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink. On the parchment he wrote just two words: "We won." He folded the parchment up and gave it to Fawkes.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall."

Fawkes left in the same way that he had arrived, dropping a single tear on Tonks. Tonks, now awake, stretched and looked over at Harry.

"What happened," she asked.

"Don't you remember," asked Harry, giving her a puzzled look.

Tonks thought on it a moment. "There was this singing," finally said.

Harry, not wanting his last minutes to be depressing, answered, "That's right. I sang a song and the Death Eaters ran away."

Again, Tonks tried hard to remember. "I was at home...no, I was Hogwarts...and there this light. I can't remember anything else."

Harry glanced at his hands. Though Tonks didn't notice it, his hand were giving off a faint, yellow glow. Harry knowing the end was near, took a moment to think. He thought about how he and Tonks met, when they'd first kissed and how they had planned to go on vacation once the war was over.

"Nymphadora Tonks," he said not giving her the chance to object at the use of her first name,"I was going to take you to so many places. Barcelona! Not the muggle Barcelona, the wizard Barcelona! Fantastic place, you'll love it there!"

He had said all this very fast.

"They've got dogs with no noses," he continued, laughing at his own joke. "Imagine how many times a day you'll end up telling that joke and it's still funny!"

Poor Tonks was confused. She wasn't sure if she had had a bad day, because everything from when she went to sleep the night before up until she had woken up on the couch was a blank. Then, to top it all off, her boyfriend was carrying on like a lunatic. Deciding to play along, she asked, "Then why can't we go?"

"Maybe you'll go. And maybe I'll go, but not like this."

Tonks sat up, thinking that her day could not get any weirder.

"You're not making sense."

"I might never make sense again! I might have two heads! Or no head! Imagine me with no head - and don't say that's an improvement."

Even Tonks couldn't help but smile. His sense of humor was one of the things that made Harry so attractive to her. But her smile faded when she saw that he had become serious again.

"But it's a bit dodgy this process. You never no what you're going to end up with."

There was a flash of light and Harry doubled over in pain. Tonks, rushing over to him, yelled, "HARRY."

Harry held up his hand to stop her and ordered, "Stay away!"

Her clumsiness, coupled her sudden deceleration, caused Tonks to fall over. Picking herself up, she demanded, "Harry, tell me what's going on."

"I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex and no one's meant to do that. Every cell in my body is dying."

Had she thought about it, Tonks probably would have asked what the Time Vortex was, but instead she asked, "Can't you do to something."

"Yeah, I'm doing it right now. Dumbledore taught me this little trick, it's sort of a way of cheating death. Except it means I'm going to change. And I'm not going to see you, not like this, not with this daft old face. And before I go-"

"Don't say that," cried Tonks. She was frightened and she was confused. And she thought her boyfriend was dying.

"Tonks," he said firmly, "before I go, I just wanna tell you, you were fantastic..absolutely fantastic. And d'you know what?"

Tonks couldn't speak all she could manage was to shake her head.

Harry answered his own question, "So was I."

Tonks smiled and Harry was engulfed in an aura off blinding, yellow light. So blinding in fact, that Tonks was forced to look away. When the light was gone and she looked back, there was a man standing had been. She was about to pull out her wand to curse the strange man, when she realized, it was Harry. Sure he had aged seven years, his scar was gone and his clothes were now to small for him. But it was definitely still Harry.

Harry, who had by noticed Tonks staring at him, said, "Hello. Ok," as he adjusted the size of his clothes and conjured a mirror.

"Same body...that's weird. So where was I? Oh, that's right. Barcelona!

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. On the Road Again

Harry Who

Chapter Two: On the Road Again

"What happened," Tonks asked.

Harry sighed. He remembered when Dumbledore first explained it to him. "I regenerated."

"Regenerated?"

"I got a new body. Or rather an older version of the original. It's not supposed to happen that way, though."

"I'm sorry, I still don't understand."

"Regeneration is old magic. Almost dead. Before Dumbledore told me, I think only he and Nicholas Flamel knew about it. When you regenerate, every cell in your body explodes and then implodes, causing you to have a whole new body and, in most cases, a new personality."

"So wizards are immortal?"

"Close but no cigar. First of all, we can only regenerate at near death. Death is death, even to a wizard. Take me for instance. I'm almost died before I could regenerate. If Fawkes hadn't shown up, you'd have a funeral to plan." Harry gave a small laugh.

"And," Tonks asked.

"Hmm?"

"You said 'first of all.' That means there's more, right?"

"Oh. Right. We can only regenerate twelve times."

An uneasy silence fell over the couple. Timidly, Tonks asked, "What now?"

"Well, we'd talked about going on vacation."

"Yeah, but we hadn't picked a place."

"Why only one place? Don't you get it? The war's over! It's done! The entire world is going to be celebrating! Why should we miss it? Why don't we just go?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Tonks couldn't bring herself to answer. The truth was she was afraid. Afraid of this new Harry. How she could she trust him when he had changed so much.

But, then, she looked into his eyes. They hadn't changed a bit. No matter how different he looked, The same Harry that she had fallen love with was looking back. But how to be sure?

"Harry, where did we first kiss?"

Harry answered, without a moments hesitation, "Under the tree by the lake at Hogwarts."

"Harry?"

"Hello,"answered Harry, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Why not!"

"Hmm?

In a flash, Tonks left the living room. She was almost tripped down the stairs, as she dashed towards her room.

"Oi," Harry called after her, before going upstairs himself, " don't kill yourself!"

"But Tonks hadn't heard him. Now in her room, Tonks was busy magicking things into her trunk.

Looking into her room, and seeing that his girlfriend was finished packing, Harry said "reducio" at her trunk, and went to his room. But he didn't start packing. Quite the reverse. He began throwing things out of his trunk. Violently, I might add. Tonks, coming into the room carrying a cell phone-sized trunk, just missed getting hit in the head with a book.

"What're you doing?"

Harry didn't answer. He had apparently found what he had been looking for. Tonks didn't see what was so important about it . To her, it just looked like a toy motorcycle. But Harry obviously thought it was important because, he said, " Ha ha! Here we go," before gently placing it on his bed and began packing his things.

Once he was finished, and his trunk the size of a cell phone, he stuffed it quickly in his pocket and carefully grabbed the motorbike. He started to leave the room, but stopped. He turned around and, stopping only to put the motor bike safely on his bed side table, got on his hands and knees to get something from under his bed.

It was a painting. A painting of a wizened, old man. The man was standing, although at the moment, he appeared to be sleeping. He was wearing black wizard's robes, a black, pointed wizard's hat, and his white hair and beard were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was, of course, Albus Dumbledore.

Recognizing the man immediately, Tonks asked, "Harry, where did you get that?"

"Stole it from Hogwarts," he answered, as it was something he did all the time. "I told you Dumbledore taught me to regenerate. Wake up, professor."

Dumbledore opened his eyes so quickly, one wonders if he was actually asleep. "Ah. Harry," he said," enjoying your new body."

"Yeah," he answered offhandedly. "It's over, sir. And we won! And we, Tonks and I, we're out of here. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye, Harry. Nymph-"

"Professor!" Tonks yelled.

"Very well," he said, chuckling. "Goodbye, Tonks. And Harry?"

"Yessir?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry everything." For the first time in their memories, the wise, old man broke down.

"Professor," Harry said seriously, "you have nothing to be sorry for." He grabbed the motorbike and went to the door. "The order will find you. You'll be returned. See you around."

Nothing exciting happened as the couple went down the stairs and left the house. So I hope nobody minds if I skip over that part. Now outside, Harry put the motorcycle on the ground, pulled out his wand and yelled "engorio!" And Harry's "toy" motorbike grew into a clearly real motorbike.

"It was Sirius'" said Harry, answering Tonks' confused look, as he got on. "I thought it would be fun to take it for a spin."

Nervously, Tonks got on. As much as she had loved Sirius, she knew better than to trust it anything he had made. She gasped a little when Harry pressed a button labeled "Invisibility Booster," which made the bike fly and its riders invisible. She had to force herself not to look down. She definitely didn't want to see her rear firmly planted on nothing at all. She wasn't sure she could handle the idea of riding nothing, driven by no one.

In an attempt to take her mind off her fear, she racked her brain, trying to remember the battle. Nothing.

"Harry, what's the Time Vortex?"

"You really don't remember anything? Well, it's pure magical energy. It's what allows wizards to manipulate time. Small pieces of it are contained in time turners."

"And you absorbed it?"

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice," Harry retorted in such a way, it was clear that the subject was closed.

Tonks waited a few minutes before asking, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"How many died?"

"Both sides included, there were only two survivors."

Tonks was in shock. She couldn't believe it. Trembling, she managed to ask, "How can you be so sure?"

"At the battle, we separated to different parts of the castle. Each group was given half of a pair of two-way mirror. I had all the other halves. They all called me before the end. They're dead, Tonks. I couldn't save them, but I was forced to listen," he answered, crying at the end.

It is a curious thing. When one is forced to face bad memories, one automatically. Recalls other bad memories.

FLASHBACK

Harry, still in his original body, was standing on a crowded platform at King's Cross, with a red-headed girl.

"I still love you, you know," she said.

"I love you, too, Ginny."

That was the last time he saw her: waving goodbye to him from the scarlet train. Several hours later, Ron, Ginny's brother and Harry's best friend, would find Harry sitting alone in his room at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Ron said, through tears, "Death Eaters attacked the Hogwarts Express. It ran into the lake. There were no survivors."

END FLASHBACK

Tonks herself was fighting back bad memories. And losing.

FLASHBACK

Not too long after Ginny Weasley's untimely death, Harry found Tonks crying in the attic of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Instead of her usual spiked, pink hair, she had plain, mousy hair.

"He did it again, didn't he?" It was not a question. Without waiting for a response, Harry left.

Later, after having had a good cry, Tonks was walking to her room, when she heard raised voices in a room she was passing.

"You don't understand the dangers. And neither does she," said a voice she recognized as Remus Lupin's, her boyfriend.

Don't be an ass," argued Harry. "We all know the dangers. The question is, do you know what you're doing to that girl? Have you seen her? She's more depressed now than she was before you were dating. Now, I'm going to say this once. You're going to make up your mind about where you're going with this relationship, and be honest with her, or you will leave this house."

After supper that night, Lupin pulled Tonks a side and said, "I'm sorry, Tonks. But it isn't work out. It's too dangerous."

In her crying again, she heard Lupin leave. She would later learn that he had left the house for you. She cursed Harry.

END FLASHBACK

"Tonks," said Harry, pulling her out of her daze, "we're here." He began to descend.

"Here" was a run down building that looked as if a light, summer breeze would knock it down.

"Where are we?"

"We're at the Café at the End of the Country."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. The Cafe at the End of the Country

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I could get it typed up in time. But I hope that I make for it, in the fact it's the longest chapter yet.

I tried to make this chapter more upbeat than the last two.

For anyone who remember my first post (not the first chapter, before that) this marks the last of the old storylines. Next week things will be new again!

Oh. And title was stolen from Douglas Adams' _The Restaurant at the End of theUnvierse_.

And now to the reviews.

Korrd- You're welcome. Always happy to hear suggestions.There'sHonks stuff in this chapter.And thanks for reviewing.

Gregthebunny2005- Thanks for catching that. It helped alot.

Keeper Darius- Glad you like. The h2g2 reference was intentional. There's another one in this chapter. Glad you like it the fic. As for your question, I'm afraid for the moment all I can do is quote Bill Cosby: "I can't tell you! Hahahahahahaha!"

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Peculiar things, dreams. Since the dawn of man, he has had them. And yet they are not fully understood. There are those who believe they are windows to the soul (or is that eyes? Hmm?) and in some cases prophetic. And then there are those who think they're nothing but nonsense. Me, I say it varies from case to case. But, then again, you're no here to hear my opinions. You want the story.

In his first life, Harry had learned to forget his dreams the instant he woke up, and the ability apparently passed on to his second. So, obviously, it is impossible for me to know if he had had any dreams hid first night after his regeneration. So let us move on to the enlightening dreams of Nymphadora Tonks.

DREAM

Tonks was now sporting flaming red hair. It is a curious thing about metamorphamagi. their hair often changes color to match their emotions. It probably goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, that Tonks was mad. Did I say mad? I meant furious. Furious at that beastly Harry Potter for losing her her boyfriend.

The thing you need to understand about Tonks is that, with her emotions at least, there is no setting between high and off. I would not want to be Harry Potter when she found him alone in his room the day after Remus left number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"You son of a bitch," she yelled. What did you think you were doing?"

"What," asked a puzzled Harry, "are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about! Remus left because you told him to!"

"I did no such thing! I told him he had to quit playing games."

"You stuck your nose in where it didn't belong! We were fine!"

"Tonks, don't you see what he was doing to you? I mean, I know he loves you. That much is obvious. But he'd start to move the relationship forward, and then back out because he was afraid his werewolf would hurt you. It was tearing you apart in side. It couldn't go on. Don't you see that?"

Tonks was crying at this point. She knew Harry was right and that it wasn't his fault that Remus left. But in her grief and anger, she said something she shouldn't have. She said, "You just don't want anyone else to be happy! You've been jealous of me and Remus ever since Ginny died!"

Realizing what she had said, Tonks left. Not just Harry's room, but the house, too. If she had said anything else, Harry probably would have gone after her. But at the moment he didn't care what happened to her. It wasn't until after dinner that Harry asked Hermione what had happened to Tonks.

"Oh. Didn't you know? She left. Just like professor Lupin."

Without a word, Harry grabbed his Firebolt and made for the door.

"You're not going to go after her," asked Hermione.

"Somebody's got to, and it had best be me." Harry disillusioned himself and his broom, and left.

Harry knew where he was going and could have easily flooed himself there. But he preferred flying and he needed some time yo think. He flew all night and the sun was just coming over the horizon when he reached Hogwarts. Harry stopped in at a bar called the Hog's Head and bought two bottles of Old Ogden's Fire Whiskey, before continuing on to the old tree next to Hogwarts lake sitting by tree was a crying, mousy brown-haired Tonks.

"How'd you find me," she asked through tears.

"You once told me that you used to come here when you wanted to be alone."

I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry for what I said. Cam you forgive me?"

"Of course. And can you forgive me?"

Before we find out if Tonks forgives Harry, I would like to apologize for the cheese dialogue. This is really what they said.

"There's nothing to forgive," Tonks said, before going back to her crying.

"Now, now, enough of that," Harry said, pulling the bottles out and giving one to Tonks. "Here. I brought a peace offering."

"What is it," asked Tonks fumbling with the bottle top.

Harry removed the top for her and said, "it's a drink called loneliness," before opening his own.

Taking a gulp of whiskey, Tonks said, "We're sharing a drink called loneliness, eh?"

"It's better," Harry retorted, "than drinking alone."

For the next several hours, Throughout their conversation, though they were both cheered up considerably, Tonks' hair remained mousy brown. You may wonder why I mention this, but I assure it's important. As you will see in the paragraph after next.

At some point, no one's quite sure how, in the midst of their talking and laughing, their lips met. At first it was a clumsy sort of kiss (as could be expected as Harry had very little experience and Tonks was just plain clumsy), but as they continued and got used to each other, it became more smooth.

It is here that certain things that I told you become important. First I told you that Tonks' emotions were extreme. I should also mention that such people, including Tonks, often change emotions like the rest of us change socks. Before the kiss, Tonks' hair was mousy brown. But as they kissed, her hair quickly became pink again. She was longer depressed.

It is _here_ that things get a bit muddled. We know that Harry and Tonks did not return to number twelve, Grimmauld Place until several hours later. This would not be odd if they flew. But in fact, they flooed. We also know that they were both vulnerable (and probably a little drunk) and that they turned to each other. Anything that happened between two of them between the beginning of the their kiss and the time they returned to Grimmauld Place is unknown. But we can draw our own conclusions.

END DREAM

Whatever Tonks was remembering in her dream, it was obviously not unpleasant. It was with a grin on her face that she awoke in a hotel bed next to Harry.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said, still grinning.

"Good morning, Nymphadora."

Harry Who

Chapter Three: The Café at the End of the Country

The Café at the End of the Country is not a café. Or, at least not anymore. It is a hotel. When it was a café, it had a name. Nobody knew or care about this name; it was simply called the Café at the End of the Country. This was for two reasons. First of all, it is in a costal city in a region that I believe is called the British Proper . It's in northen England, at any rate. Also, if you started in the south and traveled north, it be the last wizarding location you would come across in all of England.

Forty-two years ago, the café was taken out and the hotel put it. From the outside, to wizards and muggles alike, it looks like a shack. But on the inside it looks like a palace. Though it is considered one of the finest hotels in wizarding Europe, it is not a place that he people stay at for long stretches. It's more of a place where people at before going to their ultimate destination.

We last left Harry attempting to commit suicide by calling Tonks "Nymphadora." He earned a pillow in the face for that sin.

"Watch it, wonder boy."

"'Wonder boy', is it," Harry asked in mock anger.

"Yes. If you call me 'Nymphadora', you're going be called 'wonder boy.'"

"Tonks, honey, 'Nymphadora' is funny. 'Wonder boy' is just plain cruel."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And you know what I'm going to do?"

"What?"

"I'm going to tickle you."

He had said this so casually, that it surprised Tonks when he made good on his threat. After some tickling and a short make out session, the couple got up and changed their clothes. They had been to tired to undress the night before, though Harry had been alert enough to grab some brochures from the lobby. After getting dressed, they decided to eat in and go over the brochures. They went over to the table. And found on it gold plates and cups and menus.

Anyone who is familiar with the six-part biographical novel series about Harry, will have probably read "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire." Those who have read this book, will remember the Yule Ball. The plates featured in that scene are the same as the ones used in the hotel room.

Through the magic of the plates, Harry ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered toast, hash browns, milk and orange juice. Tonks, on the other hand, ordered pancakes and syrup, sausages, cold cereal (the exact brand has been lost to history) and black coffee.

After having had their fill, Harry and Tonks discussed their plans. They had a slight disagreement. Harry didn't really want to plan he just wanted to hop on the motorcycle and go. Tonks wanted to have a plan.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we need to know where we're going."

"Why?"

"If don't we know where we're heading, we'll end up somewhere and never leave."

"Fair point. Where do you want to go?"

"Well," she said coyly and smiling seductively, "I seem to remember some young wizard promises to take me to Barcelona."

Harry's second incarnation apparently could be just as coy. He smirked and said, "Barcelona it is. And I happen to know that the Quidditch world cup is going to be held at Andorra this year. That's not to far from Barcelona. We could try and get there in time."

"Alright."

After a lot of boring planning Harry and Tonks decided to take a cruise to take a cruise The cruise would take them south between Britain and Ireland, then swing north and take them to Norway. They planned to swing around the Baltic sea. If all went well, they would get to Andorra just in time for the Quidditch world cup.

"Well," Harry said cheerfully, "I'll go get our tickets. And Tonks?"

"Yeah?"

"They have a great dinning hall here. Why don't have dinner there tonight?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Nothing important happened on Harry's trip to get the tickets. Nothing really exciting, either, so I won't give you any details. But I will tell you this: Harry was beginning to get used to his new body. I imagine it's the kind of thing that takes some adjusting to.

"Seven years," Harry mused. "I've aged seven years."

For those of you playing at home, Tonks was twenty-three, six years older than Harry, prior to his regeneration. Now technically, Harry was still only seventeen, but Harry is what we call an old soul. So it only made sense that he would age. Perhaps there is some science to regenerating. Maybe bodies change to match their personalities. Either way, Harry was, for all extensive purposes, twenty-four.

When Harry got back to the hotel, it was getting close to dinner time. Tonks had already taken a shower and was about to get dressed for dinner. So Harry decided to take his shower. When he was done, he put on his dress robes (which he had brought into the bathroom with), magically cleaned his old clothes and left the bathroom.

I have always regretted that I could not have seen the look on Harry's face. I think that his jaw must have dropped. He probably stared, too.

What you need to understand is that Harry had only ever seen Tonks in holey blue jeans, tight t-shirts and he rarely saw her with out spiked, pink hair. So it must have been a shock when he saw Tonks standing before him. She was wearing a silhouette dress. Black, of course, and there was a long cut in the dress by her left leg. Her hair, instead of pink and spiked, was mousy brown and bobbed.

"Well," Tonks asked, "what do you think?"

Harry didn't answer. He just stood there, gaping like and idiot.

"Shall I take your dazed silence approval, then?"

"You look beautiful," he managed to say. And the two went down to dinner.

The café's dining hall is very similar to Hogwarts' great hall. But instead of long wooden tables, there were small, round ones with white table cloths. There were no windows or ceilings enchanted to look like the sky outside. The light came from great chandeliers. Truth be told a muggle might have wondered into the hall and thought it was nothing more than a fancy restaurant filled with strange people. It kind of was, at that.

When Harry and Tonks entered the hall and found an empty table, they found more of those plates that you ordered food from. They ordered their food and made light conversation.

At some point, Harry must have gotten quiet be Tonks asked, "what's wrong?"

Harry, brought back to the real world, answered, "Oh. Just thinking."

"'bout what?"

"Tonks, you never me about what happened at the battle."

Tonks shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "No."

"Why not?"

"I'm frightened. Frightened of the full story. I've heard that sometimes, when something very traumatic happens to a person, they'll forget it. Is that what happened to me?"

"I suspect so," Harry answered. But he didn't quite meet her eye.

Trying to change the subject, Tonks asked, "I take it you don't want people to know where we are?"

"Well, there are people you need to tell. If you don't tell the ministry that you're taking a leave of absence, you'll lose your job. If you don't tell your parents, they'll kill you when they see again. But, yes, that is the general idea."

Tonks smiled. "One step ahead of you." Then she added, "You think we'll ne able to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Hide from the entire wizarding world?"

"Why not? I'm mean, I know I'm still 'the boy who lived', but I look a little different. And you. You're a metamorphamagus."

Tonks stopped smiling. She look at the table and muttered, "metamorphamagus, eh? I can change whenever I want."

I'll interrupt briefly to explain. It is a great gift to be a metamorphamagus, but it is also a great curse, especially for women. Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for the lovers of metamorphamagi to ask their partners to change for them. This happened to Tonks quite a bit when she was in school.

Harry knew all this and couldn't believe he had been so stupid. "Only to hide. You know I wouldn't ask you for any other reason."

"I know. It's just-"

"I know. I know. But always remember: I fell in love with you for you. And the only Tonks I want is the one she wants to be."

They smiled at each other for a moment, pushing bad memories out of their minds.

"Come on," Harry suggested, "let's get out of here."

The couple went upstairs to their room, and fell kissing on to the bed. Nothing else happened. Well, nothing I can tell you about and still hope to keep my "T" rating, at any rate.

The next morning, Tonks awoke to find Harry watching the wizarding news on a tv he had apparently conjured. The news anchor said, "It has been confirmed by a member of the Order of the Phoenix that you-know-who is finally dead!"The screen switched and showed a reporter interviewing none other than Mad-Eye Moody.

"Yeah, he's dead."

"How did he die," the reporter asked.

"Don't know. S'pose the only one who knows, ain't telling."

"And who is that."

"That Potter boy. Disapeared not to long after the battle."

"Do you have any idea of his whereabouts?"

"No," Moody yelled, "I don't! And it's none of your business where he is, or who he's with! But I would like to give them a message: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The screen switched back to the anchor. "And in other news, the body of Circe Warbeck has been found-"

Harry vanished the tv and Tonks laughed. "Good ol' Moody," she said.

Harry looked at the clock on the wall and said, " We'd better be going. We don't want to be late." They quickly threw on muggle clothes, packed and shrank their things. Then they ran downstairs, paid their bill and checked out. Outside, they hoped on the bike and left for the ship.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Murder, Ahoy!: Part I

A/N: I'm really, _really_ sorry for taking son long to update. The real world got a hold of me and wouldn't let go.

This is an important chapter. First of all, it sets the style for the rest of this fic. It's is a series of interconnected, well, serials. This serial is based of on Agatha Christie's "Murder on the Orient Express." It's a pretty close adaptation, too. Just a warning. Now, the next serial will be based on ideas thought up by someone else, but story is my own. It's going go off and on like this. Half the stories will adaptations, the rest will have elements from other stories(such as charcters) but the story will be mine. Second of all, I finally get to justify the title.

Now to answer my reviews:

Korrd- Thanks for the suggestion. Don't worry. I plan for Harry and Tonks to go all over the world.

Harrison Potter- Yeah, I thought the length was a good trade off or the wait. Thank you for your continued support.

Ladieraie- Happy holidays to you too.

Gregthebunny- Thanks!

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Going over the last three chapters, I realize that I have been remiss in my duties. So far, I have focused on the actions and the emotions of the parties involved. But I have barely touched on the point of the story: Harry's death (for he did die (sort of)) and his subsequent rebirth. And the changes that followed.

Now, on the surface, these changes seem insignificant. And regarding his personality, the really were. But his personality was skewed.

Let's review. The first Harry was unsure of himself. He was intelligent, but not particularly quick unless he had to be. And he was practical. Very practical. He also had tendency to hold his emotions in for a long time, before letting them all loose (usually on innocent bystanders). But I think we all agree that his most important quality was that he cared.

Those of you familiar with the six-part biographical fiction series about Harry will have no doubt read part two: "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." It was in this part that Harry descended into the legendary Chamber of Secrets to battle the basilisk, in order to save Ginny Weasely. Most experts on Potterology (such as myself) agree that Harry would have gone down there to save just about anybody, even Draco Malfoy (the Anti-Harry) It is this that shows how great Harry really is.

Now, without revealing too much, I can say that the second Harry is almost a complete opposite of the first. Almost. It should also be noted that magical abilities are also often affected by regeneration. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Say no more, say no more.

So, anyway. With out further ado:

Harry Who

Chapter Four: Murder Ahoy!

Part I

The HMS Orient was big, I mean really big. You just wouldn't believe how incredibly, amazingly, mind-bogglingly big it really was. Actually, it wasn't all that big. Practically a runt as cruise ships go. It could only fit about a hundred people.

With a ship that size, space is always a consideration. Which is why Harry and Tonks almost never got on board.

"Look," said a throughly annoyed Harry, "when I bought the tickets, I was told that I could bring my bike with me!"

"I'm sorry," replied an equally annoyed crewman," but there's not enough room!"

"Then I want my money back!"

After a short but heated "discussion" , the bike was allowed to come along and Harry and Tonks got in lin to get on board.

As I said before, the second Harry is very different from the first. For one thing he was more observant. It was because of this that he noticed the couple in front of them in line. The man was short. Shorter, than Harry, even. He had short blond hair and, based on his accent, was French. The woman was taller than the man accompanying her and had reddish-brown hair.

The two seemed to be having some kind of argument. Harry couldn't tell what the argument was about, be he did hear the woman say, "not now. After it's over, once it's behind us."

The first Harry, if he had even paid attention to this (which we've all ready deemed unlikely), would have probably found this all very suspicious. But the new Harry was a live-and-let-live sort of gut and he barely even made a mental note of it.

When they finally made it to the ticket taker, he directed them to the Bergen coach, down the stairs and to the left.

Anyone who is familiar with the workings of ships will know that the lower most level of ships is where they keep the machinery...workings...stuuf...and whatever it is that make ships go. The upper levels are where people live. The Bergen coach, as it happened, was the lower most people level.

The room currently in the use of Harry and Tonks was number 16. It was big. I mean really...I've said this before, haven't I. Anyways, it wasn't all that big, truth be told. But what it lacked in size, it up for in luxuriousness. If you've ever seen pictures of hotel suites. You'll have an idea of what the room was like.

What happened during the next few hours is another one of those areas of which not much is known. We can say for certain that they unpacked for their week-long journey. Other than that, nothing is known for sure, though I should mention that, when discussing those few hours, Harry has reportedly said, in passing, that the bedsprings in their ship bed were surprisingly strong.

After those dark hours, Harry and Tonks went up to the Bergen coach dining hall for dinner. Harry had steak and lobster, while Tonks had crab legs and steamer clams. For wine, they the Blanc de Blanc Brut, 1943.

Harry, with his new powers of observation, couldn't help but take notice of his fellow travelers. At a table near them, four men were eating together. One, in a loud suit, had the look of a commercial traveler. Probably American, Harry thought. The second was a swarthy Italian. The third was an Englishmen with a servant like air about him. The fourth was the Frenchman that been in line in front of Harry and Tonks.

At another table, an elderly woman, with a face full of personality, was given instructions to a waiter.

At still another table, the woman Harry had seen earlier was with two others. The first was middle-aged and wore a simple dress. Her blonde was in a bun that McGonagall would have been proud of and she had a face like a sheep. The second was older(though not as old as the woman sitting alone) and matronly. Chatting away about her daughter, she reminded Harry distinctly of Mrs. Weasely.

But it was the woman tha he had seen earlier, that interested Harry the most. He had seen her somewhere before, he was sure of it. But, being the second Harry, he thought nothing of it.

Beyond them was couple talking. He was tall and had a moustache. She had jet black hair and skin that was as whit as a corpse.

At the final table, sat two men, but Harry barley noticed the first (a young man) for the second. Harry was quite sure that if he still had his scar, it would be burning in full force. Though the man's face looked benevolent, his eyes betrayed his cruelty. Even Harry, with his new devil-may-care attitude, couldn't shake the feeling that he had just looked evil in the eye. A feeling Harry hadn't had since he'd last faced Voldemort.

When they had finished eating, Tonks went back to their room, while Harry went to see if he could get some champagne. He did and when he headed back to the room, he passed the man with evil eyes.

"Excuse me," said the man, "Do you have the time?"

Harry stooped, but if even glanced at the man, it wasn't noticeable.

"You don't need the time."

"I don't?"

"No. You wave a wrist watch and it's working perfectly."

The man did not seem annoyed at Harry's cheek. On the contrary. He was ecstatic.

"I knew were just what I was looking for! Please. Sit down. My name is Ratchett."

Reluctantly, Harry sat down.

"What's your name, son?"

"Harry."

"Harry? Harry who?"

"Just...Harry"

Ratchett paused, thinking. "OK. You have secrets. I can respect that."

"You said I was what you were looking for. What do you mean?"

"I saw it right away. It was the way you were at dinner. Reading all of us, one by one."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"You've done detective work before, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"I have a proposition for you. And it means money. Big money"

Ratchett stopped waiting for Harry to respond. When he didn't, he went on.

"Men like me often have enemies. I have an enemy."

"Just one?"

Ratchett went suddenly angry. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"People likely to have enemies don't usually don't have just one."

Ratchett was calm again. "Oh. Of course. Anyway, my secretary can show you two letters and I can show this."

Ratchett quickly showed Harry a gun, before hiding it again. He started to continue, but Harry cut him off.

"You don't seem to need me."

"I like to be sure. Now, how about 5,000 dollars to be my body guard?"

"No."

"10,000?'

"No."

"15,000?"

"Mr. Ratchett, with money at least, I've been lucky. I've enough to satisfy both my wants and needs, for the rest of my life. I'd only do detective work again if it interested me. And my interest is gone."

"If you want more money, you're not getting it."

"I'm not."

"Then what's wrong with my offer?"

"Honestly? I don't like your face."

Harry got and returned to his room, leaving Ratchett dumbstruck.

"Wotcher, Harry," greeted Tonks. "What took you so long?"

"Harry explained to her about Ratchett. Since you all just read all about it, I won't rehash the details.

"And you turned him down?"

"Yep."

"Not like you."

"I know. But I'm not exactly myself anymore, am I?"

Tonks' face fell. She had accepted Harry's changes rather graciously in her opinion. But she was getting tired of hearing about them every five minutes.

"The regeneration. That seems to be your answer to everything."

"Well, it kinda is. Oh, don't look so glum, Tonks. Remember, I have to get use to it, too. And what fun it'll be, finding out who I am now. What an adventure! And I wouldn't want to share with anyone but you. So what do say we see if it's possible to get drunk on champagne?"

If anyone is curious, they found that it is possible to get drunk on champagne. After that they decided to test out the bedsprings again.

What? Stop looking at me like that! I only meant that, in an intoxicated state, our heros felt the need to jump up and down on the bed. You have dirty minds, you know that don't you?

Several hours later, Tonks was sleeping off the alcohol. But Harry laid awake. He preformed a quick spell to sober himself up, the started thinking. He had an uneasy feeling. Like something bad had happened. Ratchett's eyes had unsettled him more than he cared to admitt.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a cry in the night. He heard on of the ship's employees knock on the door to the room next Harry's and asked in French if everything was alright.

Ratchett replied, "Ce n'est rien. Je me suis trompe."

For anyone who doesn't speak French, it means "it's no trifle. I am mistaken." Either that or he was for directions to the nearest house of ill repute. I skive of French class far too often.

Suddenly, Harry felt very tired. He only had enough time to check the bedside and see that it was 12:37, before falling into an uneasy sleep. But that uneasy sleep was broken about an hour later, when he heard a noise outside.

With a surge of curiosity that must have been a throw back of his old self, Harry rushed to the door and opened it in time to see a women in the distance, walking away and wearing a white robe orange splotches. Sadly, Harry didn't think to grab his glasses, so he couldn't begin to tell you who the women was or what the orange splotches might be. Curiosity waning, Harry went back to bed and back to sleep.

Despite having such a rough night, Harry was wide awake at nine. Tonks was still asleep, so Harry quietly got dressed and went to the dining hall for breakfast. After hearing that icebergs would hold the voyage up indefinitely, he ordered pancakes and sausages and stated observing his fellow travelers again. He could see that it was going to be a habit with him.

The matronly women from the night before was arguing with a crewman. "Look, I'm telling you there was a man in my room last night!"

The employee never got the chance to argue the point because, the young man who had been eating dinner with Ratchett came up to him and whispered something in his ear. The employee's face went pale and the two left in a hurry. Intrigued, Harry followed them.

The two men led Harry to the room next to his. Ratchett's room. When they entered, it was to see what the problem was. Ratchett was dead in bed. Revealing himself for the first time, Harry stepped and pulled the dead man's blankets. He had obviously been stabbed.

Not wasting any time, Harry checked the employee's name tag. Pierre, it read.

"Pierre, was this coach watched last night?"

"Oui, monsieur. I watched it."

"Did anyone come in who wasn't supposed to?"

"Non."

"Is there a doctor on this boat?"

"Get him."

Pierre left and Harry turned to follow him. But the young man stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

"To get the captain."

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"I've told you! I've done detective work before," a frustrated Harry tried to explain to the captain. It had been like that ever since he told him about Ratchett.

"So?"

"Don't you get it? A man has been murdered. And from what you tell me, the icebergs will keep us here for a couple of days. And we're close to land that, sooner or later, the killer's gonna try to escape. If they succeed, they'll get away with murder."

"And what's your plan?"

"To catch the killer. When we get to Bergen, if we ever do, when can tell the Norwegian police the there has been a murder and this is the murderer."

"I don't like this idea. But if I don't let you investigate, the foreign police will. And I like that idea even less. What do you need?"

"The names, passports and destinations of all the passengers in the Bergen coach."

"Only the Bergen coach?"

"Yes, Pierre said no one came into the coach who wasn't supposed to be there."

"Anything else?"

"Well, I'll need someplace to question the passengers.

"You can use my personal room. But I'd prefer it if there was someone else in there with you."

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me now, I have to go talk to the doctor."

On his way to find the doctor, Harry ran into Tonks. She had apparently preformed a spell to get rid of her hangover. At any rate, she wasn't holding her throbbing head like she usually did when she had a hangover.

"Whotcher, Harry. What's going on?"

"Bit of excitement last night. Some icebergs floated in. We're going be stuck for a couple of days."

"Uh-huh."

"And there's been a murder."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Murder, Ahoy!: Part II

A/N: Back after a long hiatus. A few notes before we get started. The chapter title was stolen from a Miss Marple movie, another Agatha Christie charcter. Imagine that! This chapter, unfortunatly, sometimes takes passages directly from Murder on the Oreint Express. I avoided it as much a possible, but sometimes there was no way around it. Also, this installment in mostly dialogue. Sorry.

Now the answer my new reviews from Schermione!

He died? #$! I can't check until tonight, so I'll take your word for it. It'll be something for me to fix when I come out with "Harry Who: The Regenerated Edition".

I don't know what _you're _complaining about. I have to wait until October to watch season 2.

I have in fact met people who have never heard of Doug Adams or his books. I feel sorry for them. I must be sad to go through life not knowing what it's all about.

Ratchett's American.

I'd say you should read the book, but that would spoil the surprise.

"Oh and I'm certain you'd be able to update quicker if you stopped reading the back of cereal packets..."

Eh? Anyway, I'm you like the series idea and think the chapters are brilliant. I hope you like this six page dialogue I've churned out.

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Harry Who

Chapter 4: Murder, Ahoy!

Part II

Dedicated in memory of Alan Bensinger: 4/1/89 - 3/27/06. One of the best friends I ever had.

"Murder! Who?"

"The man from last night. Ratchett. Now hurry up, Tonks."

Without waiting for Tonks to follow him, Harry continued down the hall.

"Hang on a tick! What're we gonna do," Tonks called after him.

"Investigate," Harry called back.

Tonks finally caught up with Harry in Ratchett's room. Someone had apparently asked who Harry was, because Harry was saying, "My name is Harry and the captain has authorized me to investigate this crime. And you are?"

"Dr. Constantine," answered an elderly Greek man.

"Pleasure to meet you. What is your opinion of all this?"

"It is impossible to say exactly, but he was definitely killed between midnight and two. I'd say around one."

"That would fit. I heard him cry out last night."

Tonks, who had had enough of just standing around, went across the room to the open window and looked out it. There was no evidence that anyone had climbed in or out it.

"When did the icebergs stop us," she asked.

"About 12:30, mademoiselle," replied Pierre, who had just entered the room with the man who had eaten dinner with Ratchett the night before.

"Then the murderer is on the ship with us," Harry concluded. "How was he discovered?

"Monsieur MacQueen," Pierre started, gesturing to the man who had come in with him, "knocked on Monsieur Ratchett's door when he didn't come to breakfast. When he didn't answer, Monsieur MacQueen got me and I unlocked the door. But the door was chained from the inside and I was forced to break it."

"Suicide, maybe," Tonks suggested.

"Have you ever heard of someone committing suicide by stabbing themselves twelve times in the chest," Constantine asked.

"Twelve!"

"Yes, of various strengths. It's odd. Some are weak; mere scratches. Others go straight through bones. And look at this one on his side! It is as if the murderer was aiming for his chest and missed. Like they were in some kind of wild frenzy."

A wave of anger came over Harry. "I could have prevented this," he muttered to himself. "He told me he was in danger, but I wouldn't listen. Well, I was only half right about myself. I don't like to interfere, but will if I have to. I'll make this right. Kent always said everyone gets a shot at redemption, and this is mine."

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the anger was gone.

You may be wondering what the other people in the room thought of Harry's little. Well, I can assure you, they were very confused.

"Are you all right," Dr. Constantine asked.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I've been through a great deal of trauma lately and I'm still recovering. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"The weaker cuts make me think a woman was the assailant, but the stronger ones are more consistent with a man."

"Don't be so sure. I once knew a woman who could take a head off with a butter knife if she wanted to," Harry mused. "Had her head taken off in the end. Now, I would like to speak with you, Mr. MacQueen. In private if you will. In the mean time, Tonks, look for clues."

Harry led MacQueen to his and Tonks' (Is that proper English? Probably not.) room. He sat down and motioned for MacQueen to do the same.

"Mr. MacQueen, I'd like to ask a few questions."

"Before you start, I have a question. Who are you?"

"My name, I'm representing the HMS Orient in this investigation."

"Harry who?"

"If you like. My turn. I need to know everything you know about Ratchett. Were you related to him?"

"No, I was his secretary."

"For how long?"

"About a year. I met him in Iraq. We were staying at the same hotel. He fired his secretary and offered me the job. Since then we've traveled around. He wanted to see the world, but speak any languages. I was more of his translator than his secretary."

"You're a linguist, then?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Now tell me more about Ratchett. What was his full name?"

"Samuel Edward Ratchett."

"He was an American?"

"Yes."

"What part of part of America was he from?"'

"I don't know."

"Well, what do you know?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing!"

"Nothing. He never talked about his past."

"And why do think that was?"

"It's possible he was ashamed of his beginnings. Like Gatsby."

"And you honestly believe that," Harry asked, disbelievingly.

"No."

"Then what do you believe?"

"I believe he was running away from someone who had a vendetta against him. And succeeded until a few weeks ago."

"A few weeks ago? He was only killed last night."

"Yes, but a few weeks ago he started getting threatening letters."

"Do you have them with you?"

"They're in my room. Would you like me to get them?"

"Yes."

MacQueen left, giving Harry a moment to gather his thoughts. MacQueen seemed honest enough. But so had Tom Riddle's diary. And Quirrel. And Scabbers. And Professor Moody. And Fudge. In other words, Harry was going to be suspicious of everybody.

MacQueen returned and handed Harry two pieces of paper. The first read:

_Thought you double-cross us and get away with it, did you? Not on your life! We're out to _GET_ you, Ratchett, and we _WILL_ get you!_

The Second read:

_We're going to take you for a ride, Ratchett. Some time soon. We're going to _GET _you- see?_

Both were typed and neither (obviously) were signed.

"Tell me honestly," Harry asked, "what did you think of Ratchett? Were you on good terms with him? Did you like him?"

"We were on good terms, but I didn't like him. He was always pleasant enough, bit there was always something about him that made me uneasy."

"One more question. What is your full name?"

"Hector Willard MacQueen."

"Thank you. You can go now, but I'd like you to keep this quite for now."

"I'll have to tell his valet."

"Very well."

* * *

"Find anything interesting," asked Harry, upon returning to Ratchett's room.

"Quite a bit," Tonks replied. "We found a woman's handkerchief."

She handed said Harry handkerchief, who scrutinized it closely.

"It's embroidered with the letter 'H'," he noted. "It shouldn't be too hard to find out who this belongs to."

"We also found the butt of a cigar."

"And," Dr. Constantine added, "his tongue is that of a non-smoker."

"Hell, what's this," exclaimed Harry, who seemed to not have heard the doctor. He went over to Ratchett's bed and examined the cadavers arm. "His wrist watch. Smashed at a quarter past one. Perhaps he put up a struggle."

"Doubtful," retorted Constantine. "Two cuts went through veins, but didn't bleed like they should have. He was dead or drugged when they were made."

"Plus we found this," said Tonks, showing Harry Ratchett's gun, "under his pillow."

"I forgot about that. Anything else?"

"Most of the cuts," the doctor answered, "were made by a right-handed person. But one or two were made by a left-handed person."

"Two killers? Or one who is-"

Harry was interrupted by a cry of "Eureka!", a loud thump and a cry of "BOLLOCKS!" Apparently the hopelessly clumsy Tonks had gotten on her hands and knees in hopes of finding something important. Once under the bed, she found something that sparked her interest, and, in her excitement, hit her head on the bed frame.

"You OK," Harry asked.

"Yeah. Look at this."

She handed Harry a piece of paper. Someone had tried to burn it, but he could still read a few letters.

"irce Warb? What's an irce Warb?"

Not irce Warb. Circe Warbeck! A kidnaping case in America."

"I don't remember it."

"I do," said Constantine darkly. "It was horrible."

"What happened?"

"It was back when you we're a second-year," Tonks answered. "I'm not surprised you don't remember it. Ooh, it _was _horrible! It still makes my blood boil! Little was taken from her home, and the kidnappers demand a ridiculously high ransom. Her family got the money together, but never saw Circe again.

"Six months later, a man called Cassetti was arrested for her murder, but money changed hands and he got off a disappeared.

"But that's not the worst of it. Circe's father, A war hero (he fought along side Moody) killed himself. The shock caused her pregnant mother to go into early labor. Both mother and baby died."

"There was another, wasn't there," asked the Doctor.

"Yes. The police got into their heads that the Warbeck's maid was involved. When they refused to believe her denials, she threw herself out a window and died. When Cassetti went to trial, she was proved innocent. If Ratchett was Cassetti, the he caused the deaths of five people. Five!"

An uneasy silence fell over the group, which was only broken by Pierre entering the room.

"Monsieur Harry, the information you requested," he said, handing Gary a stack of passports and a sheet of paper telling the destinations of all the passenger in the Bergen coach..

"Thank you."

"The captain says his room is open to you now and that I am to do everything you require."

"Well, doctor, if you want to join us, I'd be grateful for you insight.

And the for left Ratchett's room to find the killer's killer.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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A/N: Review please! 


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